OUR LIVES are peppered with so many apocalyptic prospects that a ’fella would have to scratch twice and turn back into the wall at least once before jumping out of the bed of a Monday morning — after all what’s the point in getting exercised about something that may not have the kind of future we once anticipated?

IT IS entirely appropriate that a town that ushers a river as magnificent as the Blackwater to the sea — could be, might be again one of Europe’s great salmon rivers — should have a venerable seafood restaurant.